


Understanding

by Yamx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: First Time, Gallifreyan, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-16
Updated: 2009-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamx/pseuds/Yamx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an older self comes to visit the Doctor, unexpected revelations follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lindenharp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindenharp/gifts).



> Written for Lindenharp, who very generously bid on me in the _Support Stacie Auction_. Hope you like the story! (Prompt revealed at the end.)
> 
> Thanks to [Wendymr](http://wendymr.livejournal.com/) and [Kae_nine](http://kae-nine.livejournal.com/) for betaing.

The TARDIS was humming quietly in the depth of ship night. As usual when there were humans on board, she maintained a regular day-night cycle equivalent to that of Earth, dimming lights and sounds and projecting a general atmosphere of calm and restfulness. Humans needed this rhythm for their bodies to stay in balance. In fact, she could sense that the steady regularity did her Time Lord well, too, even though he didn’t need much sleep.

Currently, the Doctor was prowling her corridors near the companions’ sleeping quarters. Rose and Jack were both sleeping peacefully — the TARDIS would have alerted the Doctor if either one was in any trouble — but he still kept passing by their doors, hesitating, even reaching for a doorknob a few times — especially that of Rose’s room. The TARDIS had tried popping the door open as he passed a few times, letting a soft beam of light fall on the sleeping human, but the Doctor had just barked a sharp “Knock it off!” at her, and backed away from the door as if scared. So she just left him to his prowling, focusing on reading the intricate patterns of the Vortex instead.

And there was something interesting right there… a small eddy, like something moving towards her… something familiar…

Before she could finish her analysis and decide whether to alert the Doctor, something materialized — right in her control room! Outraged, she was about to sound the alarm, when two things happened: her scanners picked up the intruder’s temporal signature, and he put his fingers to his lips and said “Pshhhht!”

She ran a more in-depth scan, but the result remained the same — this was her Doctor. A slightly older version than the one currently leaning against Jack’s door in a slump, but indubitably her Time Lord — though his body was different, and not one she’d seen in this timeline yet. But the Vortex energy inside her was singing in recognition.

He was the Doctor. He had told her to be quiet. What was a time ship to do? She waited.

Scanning him again, she recognized the tech he was wearing on his wrist as something very much like Jack’s silly little Vortex toy — but adapted, and fed with the energy of a TARDIS — hers, in fact, but from a slightly older her. So that was how the Doctor managed to travel through the Vortex without her, find an earlier her than the one that coincided with him, and come right through her shields. He’d primed his transport with her own Vortex energy. The TARDIS dimmed her lights further and darkened her song in worry. That was very dangerous. Reckless. Much more reckless than she was used to, even from him. She could feel the energy of that little device pushing and pulling her temporal flow, and focused on keeping her systems in balance.

The stranger-who-was-hers stepped up to the console and started pushing some buttons. Well, it was the Doctor’s right to do that. And she knew better than anyone — no matter when someone was from, he was still the same person. Understood identity through time on a level that no one else could, not even the Doctor himself. No one alive anymore.

Mourning her lost kin didn’t distract her from paying attention to the commands the Doctor was typing — commands in direct contradiction to long-established standing orders. She sent a request for confirmation, and he gave it. She sent another. He confirmed again, hitting the keys harder this time. The command was now locked in, but something seemed wrong about this — something just didn’t feel right. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched his mind, felt for his timeline — and cried in outrage. He was wrong. He was her Doctor, yes, but everything in his mind, his personality, his attitude, was simply wrong. The strands that connected a Time Lord’s mind to the heart of Time, the time sense that allowed them to understand and protect Time, was warped in this one, distorted into a cruel sense of ownership — of mastery. She withdrew from his mind in terror, slammed up her barriers and sounded her alarms — the sirens, the cloister bell, and a desperate mental “Help me!” to those she regarded as part of herself.

“No! Nononono! What did you do that for, you silly ship?” His fingers danced over her keyboards to make sure that the orders he had locked in were still active, then hastily closed down menus to make what he’d done not immediately obvious. Just as he switched the last screen back to environmental controls, the Doctor — her Doctor, the Doctor who was in synch with her — stormed in.

“Who the bloody hell are-” Getting a good look at the stranger, he stopped. Strode closer and looked at him piercingly. “Are you bloody insane?”

*****

Oh — well, this wasn’t quite how he’d meant to make contact with his past self, but it’d do. As the younger him started pushing controls, not taking his eyes off him, he shrugged and stepped away from the console. The changes he’d made were active but not easily spotted, and he’d had just enough time to delete the logs that would tell his predecessor what he’d done. Unless he started paying really close attention to the TARDIS’s mental patterns whenever Rose and Jack got here — and the Doctor was planning to make damn sure his younger self would be too preoccupied with him to do that — his ninth incarnation would not figure out what he’d done until it was too late.

He had to fight down a giggle. This was easy. He should have done it before. After all, he could do anything. And this change to his personal timeline could net him a great amount of enjoyment he should have taken for himself in the first place, if he hadn’t been too busy wallowing in his pain as the only “survivor” of the Time War. The Time Lord Victorious could give this pathetic, miserable version of himself a gift that would keep on giving — his younger self would get lots of much-needed fun and distraction, and he himself would end up with some enjoyable memories to replace the bleak ones.

The younger him was still checking menus. “What the hell did you do to my TARDIS?” he growled.

“Hello to you, too,” he said, for the first time since the War not feeling a pang of pain as the familiar Gallifreyan harmonies rolled off his tongue. He gave himself his most charming smile.

A flicker of surprised crossed the other one’s face but he answered back in the same language. “What are you doing here and why would I take such a stupid risk?”

*****

All right, this was him — he was sure without being told. A future him, but him all right. But what the hell would possess him to do something this stupid? Crossing his own timeline on purpose? Contriving some means of getting into the TARDIS while she was in the Vortex? There was no even remotely sane way of doing that - whatever he’d used just had to be terribly dangerous, and potentially risky not just for him but for all of Time.

He heard two sets of rapid footsteps behind him — one slippered, one barefoot.

“Doctor, what is..?” Rose’s voice trailed off in a small gasp of surprise.

“Whoever the fuck you are, step away from the Doctor!”

“Jack, put down the gun.” He didn’t need to turn around to know the lad was leveling his blaster at the intruder. And whatever his future self might be up to, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to be shot by his own companion once he was him.

“But, Doc-“

“Now.” He knew without looking that he was being obeyed. His eyes were still fixed on his future regeneration, who was staring past his shoulder at Jack and Rose with an unreadable expression. “I’ll handle this. Go back to your rooms.”

This time, he knew without having to look that they’d disobey. “Go. Now.” Still no footsteps. He didn’t have energy to spare on arguing with his companions right now, and he didn’t believe that any incarnation of himself would ever hurt them, so he shrugged and took a step sideways to at least stand directly between the intruder and his companions. “What do you want?” he asked in English.

“Them,” his older self replied, still in Gallifreyan. “Not for me!” he added quickly as the Doctor stiffened at the words. “For you! I know how badly you want them, because when I was you, I wanted them that much myself!”

He broke into a cold sweat. Thank the stars the idiot was speaking the Old Tongue. He switched to the same language. “Not possible.”

The other him was pacing up and down now, gesticulating wildly, running his hands through that terribly annoying hair of his, and occasionally touching the console. The Doctor kept watching him closely — every flicker, every gesture. His concentration was completely focused on trying to figure out this stranger who, while clearly him, was acting in a way he could never even imagine.

“But why? Why does it have to be impossible? They love you, too, and you know it!”

“I know.” His voice was quiet, but steady. “But it could never work. I’d destroy them. I destroy everything I touch. You should know.” Pain was making his Gallifreyan harmonies broken and discordant. If his future self had come back to make him take up with Rose and Jack, that must mean that he couldn’t do it himself in his time. Which most likely meant — he couldn’t bring himself to finish that train of thought. Hopefully, this other him was just from really, really far in his future. Even if he didn’t feel like it.

“I do know — and I’m telling you, you are wrong! You love them!” A brief flicker of his older self’s eyes over his shoulder, to where his companions were standing. “Both of them!” He suddenly whirled around and stared right at him. “What, are you claiming you don’t?”

“Course not.” He took a deep breath. “But not the point.”

“You want them. More than you’ve wanted anything since… you know…” Their eyes met, but even in this language that no one besides them would understand, neither could get the words out.

“I’m not going to sacrifice them to my selfish desires, and I cannot fathom what madness would make me think it’s a good idea in the future!” He stepped closer to his older self. There was something in his counterpart’s eyes that he couldn’t place, but that seemed really, really alien to him. Which was ironic, considering. He spat, “Get off my TARDIS. She’s not yours yet. Maybe one day I’ll understand — but I certainly hope not.”

The other him suddenly smiled brightly. “You’ll know after Bow- but no, wait, that’d be telling. You’ll see.”

“Get out!”

“All right, all right. Sorry to have bothered you. Carry on.” For some reason, the other him seemed very happy with himself. With a chuckle and a smirk in Jack and Rose’s direction, he hit a few buttons on the device on his wrist and disappeared.

The Doctor immediately stepped to the console and ran a full temporal stability scan. Surprisingly, everything seemed fine — a few little eddies, but no more than one would expect after even a mild time storm. No harm done then. He turned to his companions.

“Well, that was a bit-“ He was desperately looking for a way to explain and downplay the intrusion, brush it off as nothing to worry about. “Err… it was just…” His voice trailed off as he realized both of them were staring at him open-mouthed. He’d expected some confusion and consternation, but they seemed nothing short of shell-shocked. “He was just…”

“You.” Jack’s voice held no doubt. “He was a future you.”

“But… he didn’t look…” Rose was looking back and forth between them.

“There’s a myth.” Jack shook his head. “Well, I thought it was a myth. But then, not too long ago, I though Time Lords were. Regeneration. When Time Lords die, they… well, they don’t. They come back. But in a new body. And that’s who that was, right, Doctor?”

How the hell had the lad figured that out? He was clever, but just from looking at the two of them, how could he have… He considered denying it, but realized from Rose’s face that the look on his own had already confirmed Jack’s assumption. He nodded.

Rose took a step closer. “So… he used to be you? He remembers being you right now?” There was an incredible intensity in her eyes, and something almost like… hope? But why?

“Expect he does.”

“So what he said is true?”

What he said? Rassilon! He quickly replayed the encounter in his head. Had his older self switched to English at some point? But no. No, definitely not. Gallifreyan, start to finish. And he had replied in the same language. So why were Rose and Jack looking at him and each other as if they’d just experienced a most profound revelation?

Jack suddenly seemed to shake off his shock. He stepped closer to the Doctor, put his hands on his shoulders. “Why did you never tell us before, you idiot? What makes you think your love’s so bad?”

No! He pushed Jack off, stumbled a step back. “How… how do you know… I mean, why d’you think…” he stammered, lost — so lost. Suddenly, his companions scared him more than his encounter with a possibly unhinged self had.

“Said so, didn’t you?” Rose stepped closer. “He asked you if you loved us and you said ‘course’!”

How…. Oh hell, how… Oh no. He stumbled towards the console, started frantically pushing buttons to bring up the translator settings. A string of curses escaped him, and only halfway through some of the most obscene expressions in the universe did he realize that those, too, were now being translated for his companions’ benefit. Or detriment. He flicked a switch, restoring the standard settings, and finally understood that human expression about stable doors and horses that’d already bolted. Only that in his case, the horses had not just bolted, they’d probably reached a different galaxy and founded their own interstellar empire by now.

His mind was racing, the words he and his older self had exchanged repeating themselves endlessly over and over. Maybe he could lie. Pretend he’d been playing along somehow to humor the intruder. Maybe he could convince Rose and Jack that the translation had been incorrect. Maybe he could materialize them in the middle of a temporal singularity and hope the crisis would make them forget what they heard. Maybe…

Jack’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Doctor?”

“I… I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that. We were speaking Gallifreyan. TARDIS’s not supposed to translate. He must have…” He shrugged helplessly.

A smaller hand caressed his face and Rose leaned against his shoulder. “Is it so bad that we heard?”

The Doctor’s fingers dug into the console hard, his knuckles white. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He would not break down. He would not. He was still staring at the screen — looking at either one of his companions now would be his undoing.

“Not fair for you to know.”

He felt them exchanging a glance. Rose spoke up first. “Why, though? I mean, I always thought you just weren’t interested in us that way, ‘cause we’re an inferior species an’ all, but…”

He turned to her, shocked. “Inferior? Rose, no. Never that.” He'd been right — he should not have looked her in the face. He could feel his control slipping.

“Then what’s the problem, Doc? Is it me? ‘Cause if I’m all that’s standing between you and Rose, I’ll be out of here within the hour.”

That made him turn and look at Jack, eyes wide. “Why’d it be you?”

“Well... he said you wanted us, right? Both of us? And you clearly know how we both feel, and — well, if you feel you need to make a choice, we all know it won’t be me. I get that.”

The Doctor shook his head. “There’s no choice. There’s no way anything could ever…”

“Wait!” Rose stepped around him, confronting him. “Why? If it’s not because we’re just apes to you, why can’t we do anything about it?” She hesitated for a moment, looking at Jack, “All of us, I mean?”

“Wh- what?” He was tempted to turn back to the console and use the scanners to find out if his future self had somehow transported them both to a parallel universe.

His companions exchanged another glance. Rose gestured at Jack. “You explain.” She was blushing.

“Well, Doctor, Rose and I have talked about this.”

“About…”

“You. And what we’d like to happen.”

“What?”

“Well, what are two pining apes to do, spending long nights in the TARDIS kitchen over tea…” He flashed him a quick grin, totally unabashed. “Not that we ever thought anything would happen, you understand. Just swapping dreams and fantasies.”

The Doctor felt an unfamiliar heat in his face. Rassilon, was he blushing? He couldn’t remember that happening since that day at the Academy when the temporal quintler he’d constructed, “improving” on the traditional plans, had blown up in his face in the middle of the lesson, singeing off his eyebrows as everyone pointed and laughed. And right now he felt about as exposed, and as small and stupid, as he had then.

Rose nodded at Jack, then smiled at him. “And — well… I know this will sound a bit… weird, but — you don’t have to make a choice. Not on our account.”

He looked at her, blinking. Was she saying what he thought she was? “Rose…?”

She continued. “I know it’s… unusual. Well, to me it is. Jack says it’s completely normal in more places than not, though.”

He nodded. Triads were not a rare concept at all. And if he understood his two brave humans correctly, they’d just told him that was what they wanted. And they’d been denying themselves each other, because they’d been hoping that one day he’d join them.

Which he couldn’t. He shook his head, took a step back. “No. We can’t. Not ever.”

Rose blinked at him, a sudden frown on her face. “You really didn’t want us to know. You weren’t just working up the nerve to say something. You would never have told us.”

“No.”

“Oh. But why…?”

“Rose… I’m centuries older than you.” He shook his head. No point in mentioning his brokenness, the fact that he had committed genocide, and all the other reasons he could never be with these two, who were so happy, so full of life — not without their own scars, especially Jack, but both so infinitely lighter, shinier, deserving so much better than his broken, tarnished soul. Especially now that he had seen his future and not liked it one bit.

As painful as this was, there was only one right thing to do. These two deserved to be happy, even if he could never be a part of it. “If you two feel you could — well, if I’m the one standing between… You and Jack would make a good…”

“No!” they said at almost the same instant. Jack smiled at Rose, then at him. “Not saying that idea’s not tempting, Doc, but not just like this. Not leaving you out in the cold unless you give us a damn good reason to.”

He straightened up to his full height, glowering at them. “I’m an alien. I’m over 850 years older than you. I’ve murdered millions.”

Rose and Jack looked at him with politely inquiring expressions. Neither one said anything, but the “Anything we didn’t already know?” was loud and clear anyway.

He sagged, and looked at his feet. “I’ll lose you.”

Rose’s hand tipped up his chin, forced him to look her in the eyes. “Isn’t it better to have us and lose us than lose everything before it even starts?”

Jack nodded, and put a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. “Think about what we could have, right here, right now. Yes, you’ll probably outlive us — but in the future, when you look back on this, you’ll regret that you didn’t go for it. And I happen to know that for a fact. Because you’ll come here and try to change it.”

The Doctor’s head snapped up. “But he — there’s something wrong with him. Didn’t you see it in his eyes?”

Jack shook his head, but Rose nodded slowly. “There was something.”

The Doctor nodded. “Looked like somethin’ inside him had snapped.”

“Well, maybe that’s why he came back? To prevent it? Because he thought being with us could help.” Rose’s eyes shone with the faith of one who still believed, absolutely, that love could cure everything.

Jack’s approach was more logical, but just as unshakable. “You’re a genius, Doc. Not impossible that if there was something wrong with you, you could work out a way to prevent it before it happened. Stop yourself.”

Stop yourself — for some reason, these words vibrated through him, and he felt an excited murmur in the TARDIS, too. Something about the idea of stopping him was resonating through the timelines…

Rose and Jack were standing inches from him, holding hands. A united front, but one whose only aim was to bring him in.

He hesitated. The future him hadn’t seemed malicious — though, well, he’d tricked himself rather badly, hadn’t he? But then — he’d gone through many regenerations, done some very strange things, and believed that some things about him were so integral to his nature that they’d always be the same, whatever body, whatever age, snapped or not. 

He looked from Rose to Jack, but then his gaze settled on Rose again. “Are you sure? I’m not the easiest person to get along with.”

Jack laughed. “You don’t say?”

Rose was trying to stay serious, sensing the gravity of the moment, but she couldn’t keep from grinning. “We’re very sure.”

Slowly, hesitantly, the Doctor leaned forward to claim her lips with his — but at the last moment, she pushed against his shoulder. “Wait, no!”

The Doctor took a step back, trying to close off his emotions, trying not to let her see the rejection he felt. He turned to the console, pushing buttons at random. She’d said she was sure. Now she had cold feet?

Jack was looking at Rose, dismayed. “What now? You got so close!” He voiced the protest the Doctor had bitten back.

Rose quickly stepped close to him again, caught his hand. “I want this. I really do.” She tugged on his hand until he turned back from the console.

He carefully kept his expression guarded. He didn’t want her to see the hurt, though his reaction had probably betrayed that anyway. “Said that the first time.”

“And it’s true! It’s just — when you leaned in, I suddenly thought — aren’t we causing a paradox here? I mean, if we were never together in his past, and he comes back to make us, and we do, won’t that cause a temporal whatdoyacallit again? Reapers an’ such? Because I’m never doing that again, no matter what.” Determination shone in her eyes, though there were regret and desire, too.

Jack looked at the Doctor questioningly. “Good point. Can’t go ripping space-time apart…”

The Doctor flicked a few switches, repeated scans from earlier, just to make sure. “Nah, we’re safe. That foolish little toy of his — based on Jack’s, I’ll bet — only seeks out the TARDIS’s temporal signature in the Vortex. Doesn’t function outside it. So he must have come straight from his TARDIS to ours.”

Jack nodded, but Rose still looked confused. “So…?”

“So that whole conversation is protected by her temporal grace. Even if his timeline is deleted, his time here, the conversation we had, is locked into the TARDIS’s timeline and will always be true.” Seeing her confused glance — and Jack’s only half-understanding one — he grinned. “Just trust me. Know what I’m doing, me.”

Rose grinned back, and before he knew it, she’d gone up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. Her arms wound around his neck and she pressed her body — her softness, her warmth, her beautiful curves — against him. He found his lips opening and inviting her in before his brain had quite caught up with events.

After what seemed like an eternity and also like much too short a time, Rose pulled back — but she was still leaning against him. She turned and looked at Jack, her eyes dark. “Your turn,” she mumbled. The Doctor felt a sudden surge of pride at her dazed tone. I did that, some part of his brain whispered.

Jack’s grin as he approached was blinding — but there was something else underneath. Hesitation. Insecurity if he really was wanted. 

With a smile and a squeeze to her shoulder, the Doctor stepped out of Rose’s embrace. She leaned back against the console, watching him and Jack with undisguised interest.

The Doctor cupped Jack’s neck in one hand. “All right, lad?”

Jack smiled. “Just never thought… I mean, Rose, maybe, but me… Never thought you would…”

The Doctor smiled. “Would what? This?” He pulled him closer and pressed his lips on Jack’s — firm, certain, and just a tad demanding, because he had a feeling that Jack would react well to that.

Jack did. He responded with equal enthusiasm, matching the Doctor’s force easily and with passion. It was very different from kissing Rose — rougher, more competitive — but no less fantastic.

When they broke apart, the human’s eyes were black with desire, and there was a dazed smile on his lips.

“Any further questions, Captain?” He was trying for a teasing tone, but he knew a flicker of his own insecurity was in his voice. He’d known for quite a while that his companions wanted him — easy enough to tell, what with the humans broadcasting their desire in loud chemical detail all over his TARDIS — but part of him wondered if the reality could live up to the fantasy.

Jack’s answering beam was so warm it made all his doubts melt away. “Just one,” he said, placing a hand very deliberately on the Doctor’s zip. “What do Time Lords keep in their pants?”

He laughed, throaty and with just a hitch of breathlessness. “Why don’t you find out?”

A smaller hand covered Jack’s, and Rose turned to him with a teasing smile. “Let me do it?”

Jack grinned. “What do I get if I let you?”

Her answer was non-verbal, but nevertheless made very eloquent use of her lips and tongue.

The Doctor stared at the humans, transfixed. He’d expected this part to be hard, had thought his natural jealousy would make watching Jack and Rose together something that he’d have to work at accepting — but now he felt he could happily just stand there watching them for hours, and not feel like he was losing out.

He was beginning to wonder if maybe humans did have respiratory bypasses after all and he’d just never noticed when the two of them finally broke apart.

Rose looked flushed. “Where were we?” She gently stroked her hand across his zip. “Oh, right.” With nimble fingers, she opened his fly, and his straining and very eager cock sprang to attention.

Jack smiled. “Looks human enough. Think I can work with that.” And, without further ado, he got on his knees before the Doctor, glancing up at him with dark, desirous eyes. “I’m pretty good at this. Done it with more than one species, too. So, unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t…?”

The Doctor’s voice did not sound squeaky in the least when he replied “No reason at all.” And he did definitely not shiver, nor did his knees buckle, when he found himself engulfed by Jack’s warm and eager mouth. And he didn’t whimper at all when Rose claimed his lips, and he felt two warm, clever, fantastic human tongues working on him at the same time.

Rassilon, Jack was good at this. It wasn’t the first time someone was doing this to the Doctor — though it was the first time in this body — but he had never had any idea how fantastic it could feel if the partner had the right technique and enthusiasm.

When he climaxed — an embarrassingly few minutes later, and that even though he was putting all his control into delaying the moment — he lost his last vestiges of control and went completely limp. When the explosion of colors dancing in front of his eyes receded, he found himself kneeling on the grating, and it appeared that at some point his clever humans had removed his jacket and jumper, and pulled his trousers down to his ankles. He kicked them off, shoes and all. For a moment, he thought that it wasn’t right that he was so exposed when they were both still dressed, but they were holding him close and caressing him and he really didn’t want their hands to deal with unimportant things like buttons and zips right now. Weakly, he started fumbling with the buttons of Rose’s top himself.

She smiled, caught his hands in hers and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You know what I think?”

The Doctor, not quite up to verbalization yet, merely raised an eyebrow, but Jack grinned at her cheekily and suggested “That you’re so damn lucky?”

Rose giggled. “That, too. But also, really uncomfortable.” She gestured to her knees. “The gratin’ hurts already. Really don’t fancy losing my pyjamas until we move to somewhere more comfortable.”

The Doctor instantly pushed himself upright, ignoring the slight tremble in his knees. “Need to get to a bedroom. We also need blankets and such for you lot. You’ll get cold.”

Jack stood with him and put one arm around each of his partners. “Let’s head to my room. I have a nice, big bed, plenty of blankets — and also a thing or two in my nightstand that we might need later.” He winked at the Doctor lasciviously.

He smiled and put a hand on Jack’s arse, rubbing it gently. “Thank you. That was… unbelievable.”

Jack grinned. “I live to serve.”

The Doctor shook his head. “It’s just, I’ve never… Will have to see if I can make it up to you.” His gaze sought Rose’s. “Both of you.”

Rose grinned. “I’m sure you can think of something — aren’t, you, Jack?”

Jack chuckled. “Well, I could always give you some pointers if you need them…” He yelped when the Doctor’s rubbing turned into a quick pinch.

“Think I can handle you myself, thank you.”

The kissing and cuddling was a bit of a hindrance while walking, so it took them a while to reach Jack’s bedroom. But none of them seemed to mind.

*****

The TARDIS purred, amused and pleased. Watching the antics of her crew over the past hours had been… educational. Not that there’d never been any sex within her walls before, but this was certainly different. Longer, for one thing. And much more varied.

As far as she could tell, Jack had a whole lot of unusual suggestions — she’d had to quickly move the kitchen closer to his bedroom to facilitate events at one point — and everyone’d seemed to be having a great time trying them out. She couldn’t remember seeing the Doctor so happy since well before the War. And her human occupants had clearly enjoyed themselves, too. She’d tried to provide all the support she could — discreetly refilling Jack’s little jar of Brenusian nut oil several times, turning the temperature and lightning up and down as felt appropriate — but mostly she’d just basked in the mental glow of her very happy crew.

When they’d finally fallen asleep — all three of them, even her Time Lord, to whom sleep came so rarely — she carefully ran some scans of the timelines to check for any imbalances in the Vortex. She could feel that her Doctor’s life had taken an important turn tonight, but her temporal grace was holding tight. There was nothing to worry about. This new timeline was just as smooth and stable as the old one — and she had a feeling it would be a whole lot more fun.

*****

Every step away from the base felt like fighting the weight of worlds. If it hadn’t been for the orange space-suit covering his clothes, he’d have been tempted to shrug off his leather jacket just to ease the load. He didn’t think he’d be able to do it if it weren’t for Jack’s firm hold on his arm. He heard the crew dying via the intercom, one by one — Steffi, Roman, Ed. Rose was by his side, silent, supportive — and crying. Jack’s face was expressionless, but the Doctor knew that this was not easy for him, either. He’d grown up hearing about the heroes of Bowie Base One. Now he had to walk away and leave them for dead. And he had to drag a reluctant Time Lord along with him.

Suddenly, the Doctor’s time sense screamed. He stopped, his knees buckling. He squeezed his eyes shut “I… I can’t…”

“Doctor!” Jack’s tone was harsh. The military commander keeping the mission together. “There’s nothing we can do. It’s history.”

He nodded. “I know. This is… just… give me a minute.” He felt Rose rubbing his shoulder in silent support.

Jack looked doubtful, but waited. His grasp on the Doctor’s arm remained firm, as if he suspected the Time Lord might bolt back to the station to save the day. The Doctor couldn’t blame him. He was tempted. Dangerously tempted. Or he had been, until precisely 8.7 seconds ago.

He opened his eyes, looked at his lovers. “This is it. This is when it happened.”

“When what happened?” Rose asked in a small voice.

“When the other me — the one who came back — when he…” He shuddered. “When he stopped being a Time Lord and became a…a…” He shook his head and looked at Jack desperately. “Take me back to the TARDIS. Take her into the Vortex. Don’t let me anywhere near the controls until I’ve calmed down.”

Rose gasped, but Jack just gave a brief nod. He stood up, pulling the Doctor with him. “Yes, sir. And that’s the last order I’m taking from you until you can explain this rationally.”

*****

The TARDIS was incredibly glad to see her crew return, timelines still undisturbed. She made dematerialization easy on Jack, and then shut down her central console for standard maintenance runs, just to be sure.

Then she watched as her two humans took the Doctor to bed. Unusually, there was no sex this time, just lots and lots of holding, talking, and quiet but heartbroken explanations.

The other him, the one who had come back to see her Doctor, was gone now. He no longer existed, except for that short span in her control room when he’d tricked her Doctor into opening up to his companions. And though she’d seen his mind, and known that he was wrong, twisted, almost evil, the TARDIS couldn’t help feeling just a little bit grateful to him. She resolved to keep the memory of those moments always, firmly wrapped into her temporal grace until the end of Time itself.

*****

Rose leaned her head onto the Time Lord’s shoulder. Jack had an arm wrapped around both of them from the Doctor’s other side. They were sitting on a hillside, together with hundreds of others, to watch the launch.

Susie Fontana Brooke and her crew were about to be launched into space. Their ship, aptly named the “Adelaide” through the insistence of her Captain and millions of letters from the public, would travel at light speed — faster than any human ever had traveled before, discounting those who’d been on the TARDIS. Out of all those watching, only the three of them knew that the ship would reach Proxima Centauri safely and begin a new culture of exploration and discovery unprecedented in human history.

She looked at the Doctor’s smiling face. She hadn’t mentioned it to him, but she was grateful it was still the same face she’d first fallen in love with. When he’d told them what had happened on Mars in the original timeline, her heart had cramped painfully at the thought that that must mean they’d lost him already. Well, maybe not “lost.” She was sure she could love the Doctor whatever face he wore. But she was in no hurry to lose this one — ears, nose, and all.

She leaned over and pressed a kiss on his lips — lingering, and just a bit desperate. He returned it warmly and then looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that for?”

“Just ‘cause.” She smiled.

Jack grinned and leaned closer to the Doctor. “I have just cause, too!” The Doctor’s groan at the bad pun was stifled by Jack’s lips on his. Just as they broke apart, there was a growling noise and the earth trembled beneath them, and across the river, a giant ball of metal and smoke rose into the air in a majestic arc.

“Godspeed,” the Doctor mumbled quietly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” His hold around Rose and Jack tightened. “Everyone should.”

*****

The TARDIS observed her crew in what was now their joined bedroom. The humans were sleeping, curled up together, and the Doctor was spooned up behind Rose, an arm wrapped tightly over both of them. He was wide awake, but showed no signs of his usual night-time boredom or restlessness. Instead, there was a peaceful smile on his face as he watched them, breathing and warm and alive. Every once in a while, he’d squeeze a hip or press a kiss on someone’s temple. Rose and Jack didn’t even stir, except to snuggle closer.

The TARDIS purred, and sent a playful suggestion to his mind about always keeping the Gallifreyan translation circuits open. The Doctor shot back a “Don’t you dare,” and a firm order to keep Gallifreyan off-limits. But a minute later, he amended that mental command and entered a modification into the log: “Unless you think it’s really important.”

Her purr deepened as she gently caressed her Time Lord’s mind. She could think of one or two occasions where this new leeway might prove very useful indeed.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: _The TARDIS, for reasons of her own, starts translating Gallifreyan, and doesn't inform the Doctor. I'd like it to be OT3._


End file.
